


A Better Tomorrow

by qualamity



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kid Fic, Twins, Wrong Boy-Who-Lived, math prodigy!Harry, thief!Tom, warning: Tom being Tom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-05
Updated: 2017-12-05
Packaged: 2019-02-10 21:43:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12920856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qualamity/pseuds/qualamity
Summary: It happened like this:1. Voldemort killed Harry Potter.2. Voldemort found himself in the body of an infant.3. Some arsehole decided to shoot the killing curse at some stupid baby next to him.4. Albus Bloody Dumbledore declared Thomas Potter to be the Boy-Who-lived(Contains: an exasperated Dark Lord taking care of Baby Potter, going to school, and teaching Potter math. Who knew that the Chosen One was a genius? Also, Tom is absolutely not a thief.)





	A Better Tomorrow

**Author's Note:**

> warnings: depictions of verbal child abuse and child neglect. Also, I don't know how to tag for Tom without spoilers, so... warning: Tom is in this.

“Avada kedavra!” 

Voldemort opened his eyes to see the green spell fly through the air, not at him, but at something next to him. A silver shield with dark blue runes burst into existence. It absorbed the killing curse and the room exploded. The ceiling crashed down over their heads. The shield faltered and a piece of wood dropped onto Voldemort’s head, sending a burst of pain through his skull. Next to him, a baby with eyes the green of the killing curse started crying loudly, making his headache worse. The room swam around him. 

Albus Bloody Dumbledore walked into the room and saw a silent baby with a wound on his head that resembled a lightning bolt and a wailing unwounded baby. Voldemort could only watch in horror as Dumbledore picked him up and proclaimed dramatically, “Thomas Potter has vanquished Voldemort.” 

Voldemort vomited on Dumbledore. 

*** 

This? This filth was where Potter had lived for all these years? Voldemort looked around the cupboard where the muggles had dumped them after Potter refused to stop crying. This was worse than that rathole in the orphanage where Dumbledore sent him back year after year. Was that a spider? Absolutely disgusting. 

“Stop crying,” Voldemort ordered the baby. He cringed at the childish voice that emerged from his throat.

Potter did not stop crying. If anything, he cried even louder. 

“Merlin, it’s not like you’re the one who just got hit on the head by a bloody big ceiling.” Voldemort reached out with his tiny hands to try to suffocate Potter for just a moment of peace. 

Potter grabbed Voldemort’s right hand and began sucking his thumb. 

*** 

“You smell atrocious,” Voldemort told Potter as he struggled to keep Potter still and change his nappy. 

Potter gurgled at Voldemort and wiggled, smearing poop over his butt where Voldemort had just cleaned. 

“A Dark Lord isn’t supposed to be changing babies, Potter. You better appreciate it.” 

“Toooo,” Potter said and kicked Voldemort’s face. 

Was that supposed to be his name? What had he done to deserve this? 

*** 

Potter looked at Tom with pitiful green eyes. “Food,” he said. 

Tom groaned and got out of the cupboard. He pushed the chair to the counter and climbed up to reach the cabinet door. From there, he got the container of formula and dumped a spoonful into a bottle. He added water and brought the bottle back to Potter. Potter gurgled and ate happily. 

Tom’s own stomach growled. He ignored it and waited for Potter to finish. “I’ll never understand how you survived long enough to defeat me.” 

*** 

“Walk to the toilet, remove your trousers and pants, and sit on the toilet,” Tom told Potter. 

Potter wobbled over to the toilet, pulled his trousers down, and sat on the ground.

Tom sighed. “I guess you’re staying in diapers.” 

*** 

Tom demonstrated how to sit on the toilet. 

Harry copied him and fell in. 

Tom sighed. 

The next time, Tom held Harry stable while he went. 

*** 

“Tom, I peed.” 

Tom sighed. “You’re supposed to tell me before you go, not after you go.” He handed Harry a pair of the modified hand-me down trousers and underwear and snuck into the bathroom to wash the urine before it could stink up the cupboard.

*** 

“Don’t burn the eggs!” Shrew Dursley shrieked at Tom when she dragged him out of the cupboard and deposited him in front of the stove. 

Tom glared at her back but added oil and cracked the eggs. He dumped the entire container of salt in and served it to the muggles. The look on their faces was worth it even when Walrus Dursley threw him back into the cupboard without food. In any case, it didn’t matter; Tom would just steal it for the two of them later. 

*** 

On the first day of Year 1, the teacher, Miss Wilson, made them all say their names. Tom dutifully said, “Thomas Potter,” even when the barest implication he was related to the Potters made him want to kill someone. 

When they reached Harry, Harry only held Tom’s hand tighter and stared at the ground. 

Miss Wilson gave up after Harry buried his face into Tom’s side. 

“His name is Harry Potter,” Tom said. 

*** 

Tom knew for a fact Harry wasn’t mute. Miss Wilson did not. After an entire week, Harry still didn’t make a sound at school. During playtime, Miss Wilson had Tom stay behind while Harry waited outside. 

Miss Wilson crouched down so they were eye level. “Tom, can Harry speak?” 

Tom didn’t know what to say. Yes or no? “If he doesn’t want to, he doesn’t have to,” he said finally. 

“But it’s important to talk,” Miss Wilson said. “What if he wants to talk to you or your parents?” 

“We don’t have parents. They’re dead.” That silenced the conversation and Tom ran out to make sure Whale Dursley didn’t try to talk to Harry. 

He spent the day teaching Harry the alphabet so Harry could write instead of talk if he wanted to. “Just sound out what you want to say. We can figure it out. If Miss Wilson can’t, she’s an idiot and shouldn’t be teaching anyway.” 

“I’m happy you’re my brother,” Harry told Tom later in the safety of their cupboard.

*** 

Harry was, unsurprisingly, a terrible speller. Miss Wilson was, surprisingly, understanding. 

“Do you want to tell me your name?” she asked Harry during playtime when the other children were outside. 

Harry wrote in large, shaky letters “HARRY POTTER.” 

“You already know how to write your name! I’m very proud of you. It’s nice to meet you, Harry,” she wrote down and read out loud to him.

Harry beamed at Miss Wilson, a smile brighter than the sun. Tom decided Miss Wilson wasn’t bad, for a muggle.

*** 

Harry could speak but didn’t want to. (Tom was fine with that as long as Harry talked to him.) Harry’s spelling was atrocious. (Tom shuddered at the thought of how Harry would try to spell atrocious.) Harry could barely see. (Tom really needed to figure out how to get the Dursleys to take them to an eye doctor.) Harry couldn’t colour in between the lines. (Tom had no objection to this considering Tom didn’t bother to color at all during art time.) Harry was, in all essences, a typical five-year-old. 

Except in one case. 

He learned to count to five faster than the other children, except for Tom, who couldn’t be considered a child. Then he counted to ten, when the class hadn’t even mastered counting to five yet. During math time, Tom explained more complex math to Harry.

First single digit addition, which Tom could do in his sleep. Then, two digit addition, which Tom could also do in his sleep. Subtraction. Multiplication. Division. Two digit multiplication. Three digit multiplication, which Tom needed pen and paper to work out. Four digit multiplication, which was a pain in the arse. 

Harry did them all in his head. 

Tom didn’t know how to feel about a five-year-old Potter being better than him in math, and he didn’t try to figure it out. Instead, during playtime, while Miss Wilson continued to talk/write to Harry, Tom went to the school library and looked for math books to figure out what was the next thing children learned.

*** 

“This is a fraction. The top number is the numerator n-u-m-e-r-a-t-o-r. Numerator. The bottom number is the denominator d-e-n-o-m-i-n-a-t-o-r. Denominator.” 

“Nu-mer-a-tor. De-no-mi-na-tor,” Harry repeated obediently. 

Tom continued explaining fractions to Harry, and Harry continued doing the math with ease. 

*** 

Tom had created a monster. Harry had a new love, and it was math. He wanted to do it all the time. He could do the problems faster than Tom could come up with the problems. Tom stole a calculator from the third-grade teacher one recess just to give himself an easier time to check the answers. 

It was great that Tom finally had a way to distract Harry while he went to ~~torment~~ keep the Dursleys away from Harry. The only problems were that the school library ended at fractions, the 1930s hadn’t even taught the children fractions in primary school, Tom never went to a muggle school after he started Hogwarts, and he didn’t want to teach Harry arithmancy because he didn’t know how to even start explaining the parts about magic. 

Harry was in the stage when his every question started with why. Why was the sky blue? Why were clouds sometimes white, sometimes grey? Why was the grass green? Why were their parents dead? 

(The last question had made Tom choke on air. It had taken him an hour to come up with, “They were trying to protect you.” 

Harry said his favorite word again. “Why?”

Really. What had he ever done to deserve this? “Because they…loved you.” And Tom didn’t even stutter on the l word.

“Do you love me?” 

“Yes.”

“I love you too.) 

Tom had no explanation if Harry asked him why Tom knew magic. 

Instead, Tom gave Harry a copy of _Charlotte’s Web_ and a yellow highlighter, both of which he had stolen from the school. “Mark every word you don’t know, and I’ll explain it later to you.” 

Harry took the story happily and Tom snuck out of the house to the local library. On the legs of a five-year-old, the trip was far and exhausting. Merlin, the things he did for Harry. 

Tom had no library card and there was no way he was going to make another trip, just to return the books. Instead, he stole a backpack and an industrial grade magnet. He ran the magnet all over textbooks on algebra, trigonometry, and calculus and stuffed them into the backpack when a book titled _Chemistry Explosions_ caught his eye.

*** 

When Tom got back, Harry was bawling his eyes out, the book shut beside him. Harry saw Tom and launched himself into Tom’s stomach and tried to squeeze him to death. “What’s wrong?” Tom demanded. If the Dursleys had done something, he was going to kill them all. 

“You’re like Charlotte,” Harry said in between sobs.

“Okay?” 

“Charlotte _died_! I don’t want you to die, Tom.” 

Oh, bugger. What idiot wrote a children’s book where people died? 

*** 

One day, when Tom was about to go read in the corner while Harry practiced writing to Miss Wilson, Miss Wilson stopped Tom. “You are both very bright children,” she said.

Tom prepared himself to listen to something condescending.

“Harry, your vocabulary is progressing at a marvelous rate. I was thinking we could try something new.” 

Harry wrote, “I DONT WANT TO TALK,” and pressed his face into Tom’s side.

Tom held back the need to tell Harry to remember his apostrophes and just patted Harry on the back. He scowled at Miss Wilson. “Harry doesn’t have to talk if he doesn’t want to.” 

“I wasn’t going to ask him to talk,” Miss Wilson said gently. “I’ve been reading up on British sign language. It’s a way of talking with your hands and it might be faster than writing things out. Do you want to learn with me?” 

Harry peeked out and nodded once. He let go of Tom and hugged Miss Wilson quickly before returning to Tom.

Miss Wilson, Tom decided, was a very good person. (Maybe not all muggles were bad.) 

*** 

By the end of the year, Harry knew how to finger spell and how to sign some words. He was happily doing the problems in the algebra textbook with Tom explaining words. They had accumulated a pile of books, all of which were stolen by Tom except one on BSL, which Miss Wilson had given them. 

And then the report cards came. 

“Pet, why did the freaks do better than Dudders?” Walrus Dursley yelled, hands shaking the pieces of paper angrily in the air. 

Harry hid behind Tom and stared at his feet. Tom wished he had his wand so he could crucio them all into insanity.

Miss Wilson had given Harry and Tom an A in every category, even speech, whereas Dudley had either received a C or D. 

“Did you cheat?” Walrus Dursley demanded, literally spitting in fury. 

Tom resisted the urge to wipe his face. Instead, he said with deadly calm, “We had different teachers. Maybe Miss Wilson gave everyone an A.” 

Shrew Dursley scowled. “That stupid teacher. We should complain. Our Dudders deserves an A if the freaks can get an A.” 

“Too right, Pet. Freaks, go to your cupboard!” Walrus Dursley yelled. 

Tom took Harry away before he lost control over his temper.

In the dark, Harry asked Tom with a shaky voice, “Am I a freak?” 

It was the first time Harry had ever faced the Dursleys’ xenophobia. Tom decided that he would kill them all. “No, Harry,” Tom said firmly. “You’re brilliant and amazing.” 

Harry gnawed on his lip for a moment. “Why did they call us freaks?” 

“They’re afraid of us.” 

“But why?” Harry stared at Tom with big green eyes. “I didn’t do anything to make them scared.” 

Tom thought about explaining magic to Harry but this really, really wasn’t the best time. “You’re better than Whale Dursley, and they’re scared that their son might be an idiot.” 

Harry giggled. “Is Dudley an idiot?” 

Tom paused. “When did you ever learn his name?” _Tom_ hadn’t known his name until now. “And, yes, he is. They have good reason to be scared.” 

“I heard Petunia say it once.” Harry yawned. “I would be scared too. He doesn’t even know how to add. Do you think he has it? The thing you said lets me think?” 

“A brain? Whale Dursley? Probably not.” 

That night, as Harry obediently waited outside, Tom left the cupboard and found the chemicals under the sink. In the upstairs bathroom, he mixed the necessary compounds together and lit the end of a long fuse. While it burned, Tom ran out the house. 

“Go, go, go,” he whispered to Harry, and the two of them ran down the sidewalk. When they reached the end, Number 4 Privet Drive exploded.

**Author's Note:**

> (Tom and Harry were adopted by the Grangers, of all people. Hermione was very excited to have two brothers who were interested in studying, even if she was a little jealous that Harry could do very advanced math. 
> 
> Harry and Hermione started doing accidental magic. Tom never figured out how to explain that magic existed.
> 
> Tom remembered the wizarding world thought he was the Boy-Who-Lived when they tried to _touch him_ in Diagon Alley. 
> 
> They were all sorted into Hufflepuff. 
> 
> Voldemort tried to kill him during his first year, and wasn't that just the strangest thing? Tom vaporized Quirrel and spent the summer hunting down the horcruxes while Harry and the Grangers slept. 
> 
> He killed Lockhart by adding a contact poison to Lockhart's shampoo. The wizarding world was better off without the fraud in any case, even if Dumbledore ran himself ragged trying to find a defense professor again. 
> 
> Tom did not kill Lupin. The man was actually a decent defense professor. Sirius Black still came after Pettigrew and Pettigrew still escaped.
> 
> Crouch Jr. polyjuiced as Moody during fourth year and slipped Tom's name into the goblet because even Voldemort didn't know which twin he had attacked. Tom realised he forgot about the horcrux in Harry, bloody hell. 
> 
> Tom drugged Harry and moved the horcrux from Harry to a random quill. Fiendfyre took care of the last soul piece.
> 
> The cup took him to the graveyard. Pettigrew brought back Voldemort. While Voldemort was busy monologing, Tom blasted him into tiny pieces. It was quite messy but it made Tom feel better because at that moment, he realised there was no such thing as the Chosen One.
> 
> He enjoyed the last three years in peace.)
> 
> (In the entire seven years, Harry never spoke aloud to anyone but Tom and Hermione, and that only happened when they were alone. But it was okay. He had his pen and paper and he had his family. Harry learned nonverbal magic from Tom to pass his classes, and in third year, he started arithmancy! Who knew that math could be used for such wonderful magic?) 
> 
> (Hermione had friends who didn’t care that she liked learning and reading. Even better, Tom would always go with her to the library if she asked. Magic changed everything and nothing. She still had Tom and Harry to explore this new world with her. Who needed more than that? She never liked breaking the rules, but she learned to that it was okay to answer questions without regurgitating textbook passages.) 
> 
> (Tom founded the first public library in wizarding Britain and tried to live his life in obscurity surrounded by books. Harry spent all his time in Tom's library creating spells to merge technology and magic. Hermione became the Minister of Magic and succeeded in giving magical creatures equal rights to wizards. 
> 
> Together, they changed the world.) 
> 
> -fin- 
> 
> (Though it is never explicitly stated, I wrote Harry with the intention of depicting selective mutism. Harry never had treatment but he did have a supportive family. It is recommended for someone with selective mutism to have therapy. Selective mutism is not the result of abuse or trauma. I don't have any experience with selective mutism, and if this is offensive, please let me know immediately so I can either fix it or delete this work.)
> 
> Come say hi on [tumblr](https://qualamity.tumblr.com/)!


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